


Forgetting

by agent_florida



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood, Kink Meme, M/M, Sexual Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-07
Updated: 2010-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_florida/pseuds/agent_florida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WashxYork.</p><p>Epsilon is starting to make Wash act a little funny. Violent!Wash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgetting

It was two in the morning when York got back from that illegal rendezvous with Tex. Drinking half of the Director’s finest bottle of whisky hadn’t been in his best interest; he was more than a little hazy, so drunk that he was taking directions from Delta just to get out of his own clothes so he could sleep this off.  
  
It was 2:02 AM, by Delta’s clock, when Wash busted in the door to York’s room. “What did he tell you?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous.  
  
York looked at him through bleary, not-quite-focused eyes. Thankfully, Delta seemed capable of some rational speech. “Agent Washington,” he greeted the not-quite-welcome Freelancer. “I apologize for York’s state of undress. He is intoxicated at the moment, so perhaps this conversation would be better suited for –“  
  
“What did you tell him?” His voice was louder now, and he stepped further into the room, slamming the flimsy door shut behind him.  
  
“Wash…” After a few blinks, York could see him a little clearer. He was only wearing a pair of regulation camos. “Whaddaya want?” He squinted closer. “You’re sober. Why’re you sober? We invited you…”  
  
“I need to know what Delta’s told you.”  
  
The look in Wash’s eyes was somehow able to sober York to the point of a cognizant conversation. “Delta?”  
  
“Yes, York?”  
  
“Retire. Now.” And obediently, the green shadow on his shoulder disappeared, and suddenly it was just him, in his boxers, facing down to a very volatile and potentially lethal Freelancer. “What did Epsilon tell you?”  
  
Wash blinked several times, as if attempting to clear his thoughts. “He hasn’t  _told_  me anything,” he said, his voice low. “He’s  _showed_  me. It’s… York, it’s…”  
  
York stepped forward cautiously, weaving slightly. “Wash,” he whispered, reaching out a hand to lay it on his shoulder. Maybe if Wash sat down, his eyes would stop looking so crazy and his shoulders would lose a little of their tension.  
  
Wash, though, brushed off the hand, wrenching York’s wrist. “Don’t touch me,” he said, his voice full of warning.  
  
York wasn’t one for warnings; they just turned him on, made him more curious. He reached up a hand to brush the hair away from Wash’s eyes, hoping that the simple touch would calm him somehow. “David…”  
  
“I said  _don’t touch me!_ ” The sudden roar was disorienting, but the next few seconds were clear as day. Wash ripped York’s hand from his face; then his fist aimed straight for York’s face.  
  
York, with his blunted reflexes, wasn’t fast enough to dodge. Based on the crunch, his nose was now broken, and he could feel warm blood seeping down his face. He put a hand up to feel it – yeah, tender, and his blood was sticky. “David…” he started, not sure what to ask first.  
  
“Don’t!” Wash screamed, striking out and hitting York in the gut next. He doubled over from the blow, wheezing, yet the pain… “Don’t  _call me that_ ,” and his foot came around to hit York in the back.  
  
He couldn’t fight the force of the blow, not as inhibited as he was by the alcohol, but it wasn’t like he wanted to. He had waited for  _so long_  for Wash to open up to him, and if this was the only way… “David,” he said again, and his voice cracked for extra dramatic effect.  
  
“Don’t you fucking –“ and he knelt down to pick up the back of York’s head by his ponytail – “call me what he calls me!” And he slammed York’s face into the floor, leaving a bloody print.  
  
“David, stop…”  _Don’t stop,_  he thought.  _You need this. You need to tell me what you’ve seen._  
  
“I can’t stop!” And this time, the blow came down between York’s shoulder blades, driving the wind from his lungs as his body slammed solidly into the floor.

“David… remember why you came in here…”  _Remember. You need me. Remember that._

“I don’t want to remember!” The voice came out in a ragged huff, and York turned onto his side to look up at Wash. Tears were streaming down his face, and his fists were shaking at his sides. He dropped to his knees, suddenly looking more exhausted than York had ever seen him.

“You need to remember,” York said quietly. Though he was afraid, he reached out to lay a fingertip on Wash’s knee.

“I need to forget.” Wash’s hair had fallen in his face again. “Can you help me forget?”

This was a broken man in front of him, York was realizing, a broken man who wanted nothing more than to feel whole. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” Wash laughed hollowly. “Epsilon wants to beat the shit out of you.”

York coughed out some of the blood that had pooled in his mouth. “What do  _you_  want?”

“I want to fuck the shit out of you.”

Well. That one was surprising. After six months of playing super-spy to finally get into Wash’s circle of trust, all it took was one admission from a not-quite-so-sane Wash to tell York what he needed to know. “If it’ll help you forget…” York would do anything for him.

Apparently, tonight’s anything included getting beaten to within an inch of his life. As the last word left his mouth, Wash punched him in the back of the hand, pinning it to the floor and breaking a few bones, judging by the sound. It hurt. It  _hurt._  And it just made York more tense, more anticipatory, like a twisted kind of foreplay. York would never admit that this kind of aggression turned him on like no other, but it seemed he didn’t have to say a word for Wash to pick up on it.

In no time, Wash was on top of him, holding York’s unbroken hand down to the floor as his other hand worked on removing that last article of clothing. Bites – not nips, but bites, breaking the skin and drawing blood – on his ear and neck let York know that even the fucking wasn’t going to be painless. To be so thoroughly possessed…

York knew the sudden sensation of a rough finger pushing past his sphincter shouldn’t have surprised him, but he cried out all the same, tears involuntarily welling in his eyes from the several different painful sensations traveling along his body. Now Wash’s fingernails were cutting into the skin of his palm while his arm was being pinned to the floor, now Wash’s teeth were cutting into the base of his neck and down the curve to his shoulder, now Wash’s finger was stretching him and preparing him for what was to come.

York’s mouth was full of blood again, and when he sighed, it flowed out gently, a red bubble appearing at the corner of his mouth. Two fingers were inside him now, darting up and shoving their way to York’s most sensitive spot, and when they rubbed ever so slightly York thought he was going to die from the subtle mix of the sensations.

Then he was empty, and the hand that had guided those fingers inside him curled around his hip, forcing his pelvis up from the floor. He pushed forward from his feet, bending at the waist, shoving his ass up, heart pounding so loud in his ears that it was a wonder he could hear his own sigh as Wash pushed his member up against him. “Hold still,” Wash said, his voice deadened, and he pushed his way fully into York.

York screamed. He couldn’t help it. It was so sudden, forcing him to blink those tears of pain out of his eyes. He tried to pull back, to force Wash to be gentler, to go slower, to treat him like a human being instead of a robot. “Hurts,” he gasped out, more blood falling from his lips.

“I said  _hold still._ ” And to reinforce his point, Wash pulled York’s hips flush with his, reaching up York’s front side to the sensitive bud of a nipple and catching it between his fingernails.

The pain from that was piercing. The pain inside him was blunt. And the sick sexual satisfaction he was getting from all of this was threatening to overwhelm him. Wash was brutal with his pace, exorcising his demons on York’s all-too-human body, and York just… let him.  _It’s easier this way._

And as wild as Wash had been before, nothing prepared York for the thoughtfulness of an unexpected reacharound. Wash’s hand on his cock was smooth and slow, just the way York might have done it if he was alone and just daydreaming of something this smutty happening to him. And before either of them could do anything to delay the inevitable, Wash was crying out in surprise as his orgasm overtook him, and York came soon after, groaning as his cum spilled on the floor.

Wash disengaged quickly. When York looked over his shoulder and into his face, the expression he saw there was something close to shame. He looked about to say something, but he closed his mouth before any words actually came out.

York tried to prop himself up on his unbroken hand; his entire body felt like it had been put through a woodchipper, then steamrolled to the ground. He heard the sound of footsteps going towards the door, but before Wash could leave, he asked him one simple question. “Did you forget?”

As York propped himself up more, he could see Wash’s hesitation, his hand on the doorknob, his eyebrows furrowed, like he was trying to decide. Finally, he said “Yes” before he left the room as suddenly as he had entered.

York turned his head to the side and spat out blood. Well. He certainly hadn’t been expecting _that_  at the beginning of the night. “Delta, report,” he grunted out. It hurt to speak.

The green flicker on his shoulder reappeared on command. “You have sustained several injuries. I strongly recommend that you seek medical attention.”

“Just tell me what he did,” he groaned. He tried to move from his spot on the floor. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t pain-free, but it was possible, so he began crawling towards his closet.

“You have sustained a broken nose, a cracked rib, and several broken bones in the back of your right hand. Several bite marks on your ear, neck, and shoulder are at risk of infection. Your back will likely stiffen soon as the result of severe bruising. York, I strongly recommend that you seek medical attention.”

Delta hardly ever repeated himself, but York knew there was a better way. He finally dragged himself to the door of his closet, and he pried it open with his good hand, feeling around for his armor chestplate. “Dee, I need you brighter for this.”

He followed the order. “What is it you are looking for?”

“The healing unit they installed. You’re going to use it on me.”

Delta was less than impressed. “This is a highly inadvisable course of action.”

“Just keep tabs on me while I sleep.” Finally, after a few moments of fumbling, York found what he was looking for, and the chip came out easily once he released the catch.

“York.” This was odd. Usually Delta didn’t speak out of turn. “I’m registering a very high level of emotion. I believe it is pride.”

And even though it hurt his face, York couldn’t help but smile. “Not exactly, Dee. Not exactly.”


End file.
